Letters
by Fangirl Jessums
Summary: What if Neil died, but the phantoms never got to the other Deep Eyes? Jane's angsty little diary of letters to Neil (J/N, R/J, R/N)
1. Default Chapter

**~*~Never Forget~*~  
**

  
  
_So lately been wondering  
Who will be there to take my place?  
When I'm gone, you'll need love  
To light the shadows on your face  
If a greater wave shall fall  
It'll fall upon us all  
With those dreams that are set in stone  
Could you make it on your own?If I could, then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high, or down low  
I'll go wherever you will goAnd maybe I'll find out  
A way to make it back someday  
To watch you, to guide you  
Through the darkest of your days  
If a greater wave shall fall  
And fall upon us all  
Then I hope theres someone out there  
Who can bring me back to youIf I could, then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high, or down low  
I'll go wherever you will goRun away with my heart  
Run away with my heart  
Run away with my heartI know now just quite how  
my life and love might still go on  
In your heart, in your mind  
I'll stay with you for all of time  
If I could, then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high, or down low  
I'll go wherever you will go  
If I could turn back timeIf I could, then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high, or down low  
I'll go wherever you will go  
If I could make you mine  
If I could, then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high, or down low  
I'll go wherever you will go  
****_  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Jane stood, terrified as Neil dropped to the floor with a sickening thud. Ironic, isn't it? The first person you have real feelings for to die right before your own eyes. Shooting at the phantom mercilessly, she finally realized she should just let the phantom take her as well. She lowered her gun, thinking how bad of a headache she was getting from Gray yelling in her ear and Neil screaming at her in her mind. She lifted her hand, flipping off the com link and ceasing the shouts from one of two people. Now Gray was pounding on a window and she looked up at Gray apologetically, then down, closing her eyes, waiting for her life to be ripped from her. It never was. She opened her tear filled eyes, feeling even more empty inside. Gray grabbed her arm, yanking her away from Neil, about to tell her how stupid that was when he saw the tears in her eyes. He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and walked her to the Black Boa. She looked at him.  
"Get on. Please?" He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "He would've wanted you to. He would want you to live." She watched him, eyes brimming with tears and stepped on to see Dr. Sid and Aki watching him and Gray climbing on and walking to the cockpit. She sat, shoulders slumping a minute as she closed her eyes and let a tear fall. Maybe two. She didn't know, but when she opened her eyes Ryan was already in the Black Boa and patched up. He sat next to her, hugging her a little. He told her quietly that they would bury him when they got home. 'God,' She thought, 'Serge and the Captain knew and I didn't. I'm such an ass.' She sat up straight, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees and burying her face in her hands. After they got off of earth she floated out of the room and into a smaller one with a table. Neil was strapped to it, pale as a corpse. 'No shit, Jane. That might be because he is a corpse.' she walked up and buried her head in his chest, sobbing, murmuring apologies and begging him for forgiveness. 'Look at you. You promised yourself this would never happen and look.' She kissed his cold forehead before sliding between a close space and pulling her knees to her chest so she wouldn't float up. A little while after that she started writing.  
  



	2. Letter One September 4th, 2068

A/N- Gosh, dunno if this is angsty, but to get in the mood I had to get myself really depressed and literally was crying while I got the plot for this going. The best form I came up with was letters. Every chapter will be a letter from Jane to Neil, except the first and last, which'll be third person because...you'll see.  
Don't own 'em, never will,. Why not, you ask? 'Cause I don't friggin want Aki or Dr. Sid and UNFORTUNATELY, i hear that's all that left. ^_^ have a nice day!  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Dear Neil, September 4th, 2068  
  
I feel silly, but it's better then Dear Diary, don't you think? If you ever knew I was doing this you would laugh. God, I miss your laugh. I miss everything. The day you died... I missed you before you were even gone. How could I be so stupid? I'm empty without you. Yesterday I felt something I never felt before, and you caused it- numbness. I sat there, wondering where you are until I (yeah, the same Jane Proudfoot you left here) cried myself into a state of numb I can't describe. They say that when you're numb you can't feel. That's a one hundred percent un-true statement. I felt the whole time. When I think I've cried all I can, more tears find their way up to my eyes. God, Neil, how could this happen? Why didn't I pull you away before it got you? It all happened so quick...I just need some sort of forgiveness... Great, I'm crying again. Dammit, Neil, you made me cry for the first time in eighteen fricking years. I want to believe you're in a better place, I do, but I can't. I can't let you go until I know where you are and can be with you. I dreamt about you last night. You told me to move on, forget about you. I can't.   
Speaking of moving on, we have a new recruit in the Deep Eyes. We all fought against it, but, face it, we need a tech/pilot. He's nothing like you. He's mean, he pushes people around (especially me), he doesn't follow orders, he's almost gotten us killed more then once, and he thinks he's better then everyone (including Gray). His name is Bryant, or something like that. He makes people call him "Bry-man" and I almost smacked him the first day he was here. Nothing, nothing at all like you. You were sweet, kind, funny, caring, smart, courageous, brave... you were my everything and I didn't realize it. You would slap me if you heard what I almost did, but they're making me write, so I better. I attempted suicide a month after Bryant came. I was about to shoot myself in the chest, right in the heart, but when I was tightening my grip on the trigger... Gray walked in from my side. I jumped, thinking I had locked it, and shot myself in the stomach. He ran over, telling me I'd be fine. Not the words I wanted to hear.   
Ryan and Gray miss you too. We don't talk about you much, because I break down each time we do, but they have the look. The "Nothing will ever be the same without Neil" look. You changed a lot of peoples lives, Neil. Showed me that all guys aren't out to hurt you. Showed Gray brains are better then brawn. Taught Ryan opposites attract, as he says. I smiled lightly when he said that, wondering to myself if you did or ever could love me back. I suppose you could, but I'm not sure you did. I wish you were here to tell me, that's for sure. I guess I'll tell you about your funeral, since they think if I talk about you enough I'll "get it out of my system". Like you're aspirin and I O.D.ed. I guess I did, huh? Hah, there you go, I just smirked. You should come with a warning. "Don't Get Too Close". Or "Pull me away now, Jane!" I just rolled off my bench by my bed in my apartment, a mixture of laughter and tears.  
So, your funeral. I was the first there, wearing my MF uniform- I didn't want to, but I was forced. It rained that day. Looked like a thousand angels sobbing. I looked up, and as if you were watching, lightning struck. I smiled through my tears, pushing my frizzy, wet hair down for the hundredth time. I felt a hand on my shoulder and a squeeze of my hand and I looked down to see Aki and Gray. They walked back to the car and I walked up to your tombstone, reading it carefully. I know what it says by heart because I go back every day.   
'Neil Fleming  
February 23, 2038- December 15, 2067 (A/N- Hehe ty, Terra. Before I look retarded.)  
Lived for a while-Will be remembered forever'   
It's true. Not necessarily the most romantic or sincere way of saying it, but, it is the truth. Wow, guess this helped a little, huh? Maybe I'll make this a habit. It kind of seems like you're still here.   
  
Jane  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Ooo, shorter then I wanted it to be, but I officially have the whole plot down! Now to type it! ^_^   
  
Flames are good, contrary to popular belief.  
  
and.. ::sigh:: this is getting old. LOL  
  
"FLAME, MY CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT! FLAME!"  
  
  
Your lufferly Author Friend,   
Jess  
  
  
  



	3. Letter Two February 7th, 2069

Disclaimer: I don't own them. You KNEW that! Why did you rub it in!?!?!  
  
We're skipping ahead a little, just because I'm too lazy to write out every single one… So we're fading in on February 7th. Or, if you're European, you can pretend it's the second of July… up to you. *smirk* But really, it's February.  
  
Many many thanks to Terra, who got me back in the swing of things… And yeah, Terra, I'm still wondering WHY she was so cooperative in this…  
  
Do you all realize how hard it is to write a fic you haven't even THOUGHT about in forever? *sweat drop* I did my best, so… *drum roll* Dun da dun da! The third chapter of Letters.  
~  
2/7/69  
  
14:30  
  
Neil,   
Just when I think everyone's given up on asking me how I am and if I miss you, Aki decides to make it her business. I was sitting in the lab (only because the Captain had told me to), minding my own business and writing in this thing when she looks up at me from across the room.  
"Jane," she starts off, "I hate seeing you like this." Like what? I closed the book quickly, becoming defensive as usual.  
"Excuse me, Doctor, I wasn't aware I asked your opinion." I narrowed my eyes at her.  
"Jane, he..." She sighed. "Neil wouldn't want you to be like this." I stood, glaring.  
"You didn't know Neil. I highly doubt you would know how he would and would not want me to be." She looked at a loss for words, and I turned on my heel, walking past the Captain and Serge, nodding and saying quietly, "Sir." Before walking out.   
"Jane..." I heard the Captain's voice and stopped in my tracks.  
"Yes, sir?" I fought to keep the annoyed tone from my voice.   
"She was just trying to help. We're all worried about you."  
"I'm fine, sir." He touched my shoulder.  
"Jane, if you need to talk... we were all close to him."  
"I know, sir... it's been two months, I'm fine." He sighed like he knew I was lying, but nodded.  
"Take the day off and rest, Corporal. We have nothing important to do anyway." So that's how I ended up here, in a tub of warm water up to my neck, a pain in the small of my back, and memories flying through my head. I lift my foot, turning the warm water on full blast. It's scalding hot, but I don't care. For some reason it's strangely comforting.  
  
Jane  
  
14:35  
  
Neil,   
I just remembered why. Back about... three months (?) after we were recruited, you came out of the bathroom, your arms and neck a -beautiful- bright red.  
"What the hell happened to you?" I'd asked, raising an eyebrow at you.  
"Er, hot water." You gave me that boyish grin, the one that made me forget the 'Why the fuck was the water so hot' on my lips and replace it mentally with an, 'Oh. Okay.' You continued, "It makes the pain go away." Now the hot water is burning every inch of my body, and I've finally realized what you meant. You didn't mean physical pain. You meant the mental. There's a lot of that.  
  
Jane  
  
15:00  
  
Neil,  
Serge is talking to me through the bathroom door, and I'm actually opening up, because, well, it's Ryan. He has this friendly air about him. Funny, usually I HATE people like that, but Ryan has that "Your secret's safe with me" thing, too. Here's what you missed:   
He knocked, somewhat loudly. I blinked my eyes open.  
"Yeah?" I called.  
"Jane, you okay?" He asked. I sighed, biting the tears back.  
"I don't know." The sadness came right through my voice. I heard his clothes rustling as he sat down outside the door.  
"Want to talk about it?" He questioned. At my silence, he added on, "Do you know what I think?"  
"What?"  
"I think you should stop blaming yourself for something that isn't your fault."  
"It is my fault." I watched the soapy water from what were once bubbles as it formed a sort of skin around me. Moving my hand to touch it, it shrank back, forming two halves. Everything breaks, Neil. Everything I touch.  
"Jane, shut up." I could hear the pain in his voice from thinking about your demise. "It was as much our fault as yours."  
"You couldn't have done anything. Or the Captain, OR the doctors. *I* could've saved him. And I froze."  
"You were in shock. You probably knew it *could* happen, but didn't think it *would*." It was the truth. "It happened to me when I heard about my father. I guess when you love someone that much, it just throws you for a loop." Love? Love you? If I was scared to say it before, it's multiplied by itself since then.  
"I didn't love Neil." I closed my eyes, tears falling down my face and into the water.  
"Jane..." His pants are rustling as he stands. "Lying's not going to help... ... if you need me, I'll be at the lab." The door just clicked, right before I dunked my head underwater. It took me a second to realize it's now ice cold... That might take my mind off of what Ryan said, but I'm not too keen on catching pneumonia.  
  
Jane  
~  
I haven't written the story in forever, and considering it was done in ten minutes, I think I did fairly well. Inspiration credit to:  
Terra, cause she's just that inspiring… *grin*  
My own bath  
My own backache  
My own slight depression  
"Illusions", because it's the reason I had my notepad handy  
Ryan Whittaker, for being so great!  
"When I'm Gone", by 3 Doors Down  
  
'Sall, folks. 


	4. Letter Three December 15, 2069

December 15, 2069  
  
23:18  
  
Neil,  
  
Well, today's the day. An anniversary of many things. It's been twelve months since I was released from the psychiatric ward after a three-month stay, and exactly four years since you were taken from us all.  
  
Four years. Hell. It's surprising, really, that it's been this long without you. As much as I told you you were annoying and I wished you weren't in the squad... ...Jesus. I was a bitch to you and I knew it, and it satisfied me. If I'd known then... ...  
  
Here I go, falling rapidly into another state of depression. Anyway, speaking of the kook house, I don't think you know about it. I never wrote about it, at least. I was looking back at older entries and realized you wouldn't have any idea what I meant when I said to Gray that it had been two months, and I was fine. I guess after three attempted suicides, they started "worrying". The first time had been when Gray caught me shooting myself and I slipped. The second time I'd swallowed a bottle of aspirin, then had to go along with the squad on a mission. We'd made it less than half way there when I passed out in Ryan's lap. The last time kind of cinched the deal: I'd cut myself on the arms while I was in the bathroom and Ryan had found me. That's why whenever I'm upset, Ryan comes to talk to me. I think he's afraid of finding me like that again.  
  
And the disappointment. It was there, shrouded under their concern. Ryan had said, "You can overcome this.", Gray told me, "You can't stop living", and Bryant? Bryant said, "Cut deeper next time, maybe you'll get lucky and see your boyfriend in hell."  
  
And despite how weak I was, I still managed to grab him tightly around the throat with one hand and slammed his head against the food tray on the bed hovering over my lap. Ryan and Gray scrambled to hold me back as I kicked at him wildly.  
  
"Fuck you!" I shouted at him as he nursed his head.  
"God, you're a nut!" Bryant yelled.  
"Williams, out, now!" Gray commanded. The idiot stumbled out and Ryan tried to calm me by whispering soothing things to me while I crumpled in front of them both, crying while Ryan held me and Gray moved his arm around me.  
"I hate him." I mumbled into Ryan's chest.  
"Don't listen to him." Gray stated. But the ass ran to General Birns, turning me in and landing me in a psycho hospital. At least when Gray got called in, Williams got into trouble as well: kitchen duty, bathroom cleaning, and a small suspension.  
  
The hospital itself was probably the most sickly clean thing I've ever seen. At least I had an outlet: I sent letters to Ryan the whole time. (Yeah, I have a thing with sending letters to people, if you hadn't noticed.) At least the other patients left me alone, too scared from what they'd heard about me to do anything. I behaved, let up, and answered their questions. In return, they let me out. Bryant muttered a fake apology that sounded rehearsed and robotic, probably written by Gray.   
  
You're probably all caught up now, and the lovely little Casper I've named after you seems to be clingy at the moment. I keep feeling wind or something on my cheek, but when I glance at the window, it's closed, and the door is too. No, the air conditioner isn't on, idiot... I think that would give it away, even if I was that much of an idiot.  
  
Great, I'm talking to a Ghosty Neil again. I've got this cold unnerved feeling all up and down my spine, just because a ghost I assume is you is rubbing my back.  
  
I need to rest, because Casper/You is/are confusing me.  
  
Jane  
  
----  
Love To my Terra! 


	5. Letter Four December 17, 2069

A/N- If you know me, you know I think Ryan/Jane/Neil is the niftiest thing since Saran Wrap (and Saran Wrap's pretty nifty). While I support J/N 'til my dying day, there's R/J and some little mentionings of R/N. *Grin* But that's good, no?  
  
No flames on, "Oh, GOD, Jess, how could you write Ryan/Jane?! ... Think about it people. Ryan/Jane, Ryan/Neil, AND/OR Ryan/Jane/Neil ... *Smile* Very cute, non?  
  
---  
December 17, 2069  
  
04:10  
  
Neil,  
  
Dammit if I'm not having those stupid dreams again. Actually, I had it an hour ago, after I fell asleep talking to Ryan about you in his room. It's always the same image, over and over, but it seems to take longer each time. That stupid, mocking orange color is everywhere, the look of disbelief on your face...  
  
And what did I do? Nothing. I stood there, like a blubbering idiot, watching you as you were taken from us. So I went to do what I do every time I have that dream: Roll over, curl up on my side, and cry into my pillow. Of course, that's hard to do when you're already on your side, snuggled safely under the arm of your teddybearish Sergeant. Ryan can comfort me through anything, I'll be the first to tell you that. Anything.  
  
He doesn't have the same knack for it when he's sleeping, however. I managed to creep out from under his arms and land myself in the corner, sitting with my back against one wall, my right side against another, and my knees pulled up to my chin. I stared at the leg of Ryan's nightstand for a short time, maybe ten to fifteen minutes, before Ryan got up, shuffled over, and lifted me right off of the ground into his arms. And I sobbed into his chest so much you'd think you had just died ten seconds ago, right before my eyes. Again.  
  
"Shh... It's okay, Janie, it's okay..." He sat down on the bed, still holding me close to him and stroking my hair as I calmed myself.   
"Why do I keep having that dream?" I mumbled pathetically, my face still pressed against his cotton shirt, wet with my tears.   
"Because you won't forgive yourself, baby..." Something hit my bare arm, and I looked up to see he was crying as well. I lifted my hand to wipe a tear away, and we just watched each other.  
"Do you ever miss him?"   
"All the time." He said honestly. There were no secrets. There never were, between the three of us. No... that's not true... there were two. Ryan and I had both agreed we messed up, by keeping them from you. One of the secrets was my own, and one was Ryan's, but it was a shared secret.  
  
We loved you. And I sobbed harder, my hands on Ryan's neck as he held me, rubbing my back, attempting to soothe me. While we loved each other deeply and dearly, there was still that empty space. On the transport, on the bed, in our hearts... I closed my eyes, finally getting control of myself. I laid in his arms, my eyes closed, until he moved to lay me down. I felt like chronicling this whole thing, though, and my eyes opened as soon as he'd covered me. I looked up at him.  
  
"Thought you were asleep." He said to me. I smiled weakly.   
"Nah, just thinking." His hand touched the side of my face and I closed my eyes for a second, feeling him wipe away my tears. I opened my eyes again and he kissed me, softly, sweetly, tenderly. I returned the kiss, then moved to grab my "journal". Not even Ryan knows I write to you, just because I'm afraid a certain someone will find out and shove me back into that stupid hospital. So Ryan crawled back into bed, playing with my hair and tracing the threads in your old shirt (that I use for bed a lot), laying right behind me, but not prying. Never prying at anything. He knew if it was important, I'd tell him. If it was something I SHOULD tell him, he knew I would. Sometimes I randomly muse about past experiences, ordeals, family goings on as I think about them.   
  
"Oh, speaking of which, Samma's coming up in a week... I think she's coming with Cris." I glanced up at that. Samma's Ryan's sister, Samantha, and your own sister, Cristina, had been friends since they'd met at one of the parties you guys had thrown for me. Last I heard, Crista moved to South California after y... the incident, because she was only up here to be close so you didn't have to be alone on Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Birthdays, etc. Sammy resides in South California, and has a big place down there, and Crist moved in with her. I smiled.  
"Really?" He returned the smile, nodding.  
"Yeah, they can't wait to see you..." He smirked. "Real juicy gossip and all that." I grinned a little. While I'd never been one for girl talk, leave it to a Whittaker and a Fleming to get me to do anything. Samantha had her brother's charm, and Crista... 'Ris is a lot like myself. The girl's only 22, and for some reason she's the one the family blames for everything, the one they pick on. So I guess after you ... passed, even though I had been close to her, I got closer. She told me tales of your childhood, and in return I told her tales of anything I could remember, from the HMA to the moment you hit the ground.  
  
You'd be proud of her - I haven't seen her in a year, but she's a successful, beautiful girl. She's always happy, always ready to cheer someone up, even if she looks scared out of her wits.  
  
Reminds me of you.  
  
... God, time flies when I bother writing down little things like this.  
  
Jane  
  
---  
Love to Terra! Whether they hate R/J/N, or whether they love it, we made it! *Cheers*  
  
Who thought 48 hours in a bedroom could really bring out the love?  
  
(I'm dating my first R/J fic... Saturday, April 26, 2003... completed at 3:37 AM. ;D) 


	6. Letter Five December 24, 2069

What happens when you're bored:  
  
~  
  
December 24, 2069  
  
Neil,  
  
It's Christmas Eve. Or what would be Christmas, if there weren't so many people doubting the existance of Christ. I myself don't even know if I'm a Catholic or ... Whatever the term can be for it. Gaia-ic. ...Right. That didn't sound idiotic. So Cris and Samma did indeed come up today, and we all went out to lunch. (By "we" I mean Ryan, Cristy, Samma, Gray, Aki, myself, and Bryant, unfortunately...)  
  
Now, I knew something was going to happen from the moment Bryant said "It's on me". The jerk can't buy himself a beer without complaining he spent out of his own pocket. And that's, what, a couple of bucks versus twenty-plus? It didn't really surprise me when he hit on Cristina. It *did* surprise me, however, when she flirted back. Especially after the rest of us had warned her what an idiot he was.  
  
"So what do you do?" She asked him, grinning flirtatiously at him.  
  
"I'm the tech." He nodded. "Best there is."  
  
"Oh? But I thought you were taken in second." She stated, and I started to catch on to what she was doing. He snorted derisively.  
  
"If the first was the best, he wouldn't be dead, would he?" He asked, grabbing his glass and taking a swig of soda, just in time to miss her hurt look. So the game went on.  
  
"I suppose not. How'd he die?" A snicker this time.  
  
"Ask Janie. She was there. She actually caused it." My eyes narrowed at him dangerously, but I forced myself to stay seated as Gray gave him a level stare, and he simply gave a smile that reflected how much of a jackass he really was. "Poor, stupid bastard... I mean if you turn your back to flirt with *Proudfoot*..." He let out a harsh laugh, and I flinched, but ignored it, my fingers tightening as he kept it up. Either I was going to crack the fork in my hand in half, or it was going to slice through my skin. I felt a sharp pain in my hand. The latter it was, then. "God, even to *trust* Proudfoot to watch his back, do you believe it? What an idiot..." Obviously he was the idiot, because Sam, Ryan, and Aki were staring at him, the girls open-mouthed and Ryan just blinking at him, squeezing my hand under the table, and I didn't quite know why. Gray had given him a warning glare before, but he looked about to hit Bryant himself now. I was stiff in my chair, my back ramrod straight, and my knuckles white, a miniscule drop of blood ready to drip off of the edge of my fist. But my face showed no emotion, and I verified it by glancing in a mirror on the wall opposite us. I looked cool, and calm.  
  
How the fuck I pulled that off, I have no idea, but I think it's why Ryan was running his thumb over my hand supportively. Another glance at Cris showed her pale as anything, her eyes narrowing as she picked up her own drink, pouring it out on his lap before standing. "No, Bryant..." She said in a sickly-sweet voice. "You're the idiot." She turned on her heels, walking out quietly as realization came over the ass's face.  
  
"Bryant..." I started, standing. "You really need to learn how to fuck off." And with that, I set out after the younger girl. We'd been dining at a seafood diner down at the beach, and I finally spotted her, sitting by the waves, curled with her knees on her chest, her arms on her knees, and her face hidden away in a mix of the two. I sat down next to her, inanely putting the hand with the cut into the sand as I lowered myself, rubbing her back a little. "Crissy, baby, don't listen to her." I said, and only later realized Neil had been the only one who called her Crissa or Crissy, but it came as if it were a habit... I'm blaming it on Casper. It's easier.  
  
"He's such a jerk... my broth- my brother wasn't an idiot..." She said, picking up her head to look me straight in the eyes. You two look exactly alike, it's always sent a chill down my spine- you had an eleven year gap and you had the same eyes, hair color... like fraternal twins with a really big interval in between. And you'd always told me, as we were lying next to each other in the dark, about your childhood, how you protected her, how she'd been your best friend and you'd taken the fall for things she'd done, just because you were afraid of what your father would do to her. How you still wanted to protect her and were thinking of trying to buy her a nice house at the beach after the "Phantom problem" was solved. At the time, I think you'd told me because you thought it would get my mind off of feeling guilty for what we'd just done, but the guilt was non-existant. I just managed to pull off the look right. And if you thought I wasn't paying attention, just randomly muttering "Mm"'s or thinking your monologue was filler, you're wrong. I wasn't. I was too busy hanging on every word coming out of your mouth. And today it still amazes me that if we fell asleep next to each other, we'd end up curled together. That's why so many times you woke up alone. And I'm sorry. If I could do it now... over... fuck, who the hell am I kidding? I'd do it exactly the same, I'd feel nervous when I woke up, and wouldn't want to get caught, so I'm not going to lie to you and say I wouldn't.  
  
"No, Crissy, he wasn't. Your brother was really brave, very strong and smart." I smiled soothingly at her, something I wasn't sure I could pull off but something I did anyway. "He was anything but an idiot." She sniffed, wiping at her eyes while I smoothed the hair out of her face.  
  
"He loved you, you know." She told me, and I sucked in a breath. I knew what she wanted to hear, most likely, but I still couldn't say it. So I took the wimp's way out.  
  
"I know." She leaned into my hug, and I put my chin on top of her head, looking back over at the group standing in the parking lot waiting, just in time to catch Ryan push Bryant. It took a hell of a lot to get Ryan mad, so I could just imagine... But I didn't get up to run over, as much as I'd wanted to. Crissa needed emotional support right now, even if it was just a hug, so I offered her one. Later on, I'd got the rest of the story from Aki. As much as I don't like the doctor, she'd told me everything, straight-up, without sugar-coating it. Ryan was still calming down and needed time, and Gray and Samantha had told me to ask Ryan. So Aki was my last resort, and apparently my best. They'd all filed out of the diner, waiting by the boardwalk/parking lot for us, giving us time. Bryant did indeed have to pay, since everyone else walked out and he'd had enough kitchen duty from when he'd provoked me. He was childish, immature... and he had a small attention span. (And I'm willing to bet on Ryan's life that that's not the only small thing he has...) ... Now *I'm* being immature... ... sorry.  
  
So he got easily bored, and started whining after awhile. "Can't we go now? They're crying over Fleming, can't they do it at home instead of here?"  
  
"Bryant, can you just be *kind* for once and give them time?" Ryan questioned, sounding a little annoyed.  
  
"Oh, *I'm* sorry, *Sarge*, ya mad I made your little girlfriend cry, or are you mad I dissed your corpse of a boyfriend?" And that had been it. Ryan had pushed him, hard, right up against a car, putting a small crack in the window.  
  
"Ryan..." Gray gave him a glance and Samantha touched his arm supportively. He nodded, walking off a few paces.  
  
"Sorry, sir." And that had been it. Ryan lost his temper - something that happens as often as Hayley's-fucking-Comet comes around, and I basically missed it. I mean, I never want to be on the receiving end of Ryan's temper, but I'd like to be caught in a dark alley with Bryant advancing on me with a knife and a pissed off Ryan off to my side. God, I'd love to see how bruised Bryant's face would be after that. Gray's eyes caught my own, and his gaze softened into a worried, 'Is she alright?' look. I picked up my head, nodded a little.  
  
"How 'bout we go home, okay?" I asked, and she nodded silently, getting up from the ground. She caught me staring at the boats, and she asked me why I was lost in space. I studied her a minute, held up a finger to signal to Gray we'd be there in a minute, and a different one to Bryant when he looked over and Gray looked away, then walked over to the boats with the girl.  
  
I didn't tell her *why* we'd been under there in the first place... I honestly don't remember how we'd snuck away, but we had, had our secret little fun under a dock, and then I'd sat there as you carved something into the plank above us. Back then, for some unknown reason, they'd kept part of the beach barriered. God knows why, it wasn't like you could get a tan or anything... But I digress.  
  
~ "Neil, what are you doing?" I asked, reclining on my elbows as the water lapped up around my bare feet. ~  
  
Cris moved up to it, tilting her head a little as she read it.  
  
~ "Carvin' our names, Janie, dear." You beamed at me, the grin that would've made my legs feel like jelly and give out under me if I wasn't already on the ground. ~  
  
A grin spread on her face as she realized what it stood for, who had carved it... her fingertips traced it softly.  
  
~ "That's so original." I stated, staring at the crude NF-Hearts-JP you'd written with your pocket knife. You smirked. ~  
  
A tear dropped from her eye, and I couldn't blame her. It was proof to the world Neil Fleming had existed. True, you're a war hero, but all war heros are forgotten. Ask a kid who was the first person on the moon, they probably couldn't even tell you. They'd think 'Sputnik' was some sitcom from the 1990's, and leave it at that. But this was solid, firm evidence. NF. Neil Fleming. You were there, in the spot beneath my shoes.  
  
~ "It's not *supposed* to be original, Janie, it's supposed to be *sweet*." I raised my eyebrow at that, and you just laughed. You always laughed at the dangerous looks I gave you when we weren't in public. "You just wait, Janie... some day... we'll be back here, and you'll do it yourself." ~  
  
All the while, Cris had been inspecting it, smiling sadly. Now she started back, and I informed her I'd be there in a minute as I reached into the bag slung over my shoulder, pulling out my pocket knife and quickly carving a reply to that message next to it. 'JP-Hearts-NF'. Even if I can't say it, couldn't write it, won't admit it, the one simple four-lettered word... at least a heart doesn't count. But God, you were right. Because we were there, me, and you, though not in a solid, human form that I could see or touch, but you were there. I knew because the tears threatening to pour as the letters formed disappeared when it was done, and a feeling of happiness, cheerfulness replaced it.  
  
But we were there.  
  
And I'd done it myself.  
  
Jane  
  
~  
  
FLAME! 


End file.
